


contigo

by guycecil



Category: Gintama
Genre: Implied Dysphoria, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guycecil/pseuds/guycecil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things you only give to the ones who matter the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	contigo

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer that I am NOT trans so if I made any mistakes please let me know so I can fix them!
> 
> Funny story I almost lost this entire fic completely and very strongly debated whether or not to completely rewrite it but then I realized I hadn't actually lost it at all? I'm actually pretty proud of it and it is not nearly as shitty as a lot of my other fics so yeah. Have fun.
> 
> EDIT: lol jk i am NOT cis

“Wait, just—”

“ _Shh_ , the monster'll hear!”

“You were the one who insisted—”

“That’s not the point!”

“Now who needs to quiet down?”

“You know what, Zuraaaa—ah,  _fuck_ ...”

“Hmm.” Katsura applies just the slightest more pressure and watches Gintoki’s head fall forward, pressed right under Katsura’s chin. “Interesting.”

“Your dick is interesting,” Gintoki shoots back weakly, a pathetic response if Katsura has ever heard one.

“Very eloquent,” Katsura responds, and he slides his hand up slowly toward the belt looped around Gintoki’s pants. They’ve already shed most of their outer layers, clothes strewn across the floor, and Gintoki is in Katsura’s lap, their bodies tight and close. Katsura slowly starts to tug at Gintoki’s belt, only to have Gintoki’s hand land lightly on his wrist.

“Uh,” he says quietly, and Katsura reminds himself that Gintoki is justified in this, that he has to be patient and getting mad is unfair, and no matter how badly he wants this right now, Gintoki’s comfort is much more important.

“No?” he asks softly in return, and Gintoki is chewing on his bottom lip, not meeting Katsura’s eyes, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and Katsura tries not to sigh.

“How about this, then?” he asks, and unzips Gintoki’s shirt instead, sliding his hands up smooth skin to push the fabric away from his shoulders, and then, gently, he slips his hands down to pull off the binder.

“Wait, Zura—” Gintoki bats his hands away again, and this time Katsura can’t help the frown.

“If you want to stop then you need to  _say_ so,” Katsura informs him roughly. “I can’t read your mind, and I wouldn’t even if I could.”

“I don’t…” Gintoki winces. “There’s no reason to stop.”

“Then I need to take this off.”

“Not… really, you don’t…”

The exasperation is almost too much for Katsura to take. “You are not leaving it on during our intimate moments!”

“ _Intimate moments_ ? What the hell does that even mean?”

“Stop trying to distract me from the issue!” Katsura pushes him away, off his lap, and Gintoki at least has the good grace to try to look ashamed. “Do you fight in it?”

Gintoki’s expression shifts quickly, and he turns his head away, glaring out of the corner of his eye. “No.”

“Do you commit to strenuous labor with it on?”

“No.”

“Then why on this earth would you think it would be appropriate now?”

“It’s not like anybody sees them when I’m fighting!” Gintoki argues. “It’s different then.”

Katsura tries not to scream. “This is not the first time I’ve seen them, you realize. Unless all the previous times were so terrible that you chose to block them out of your mind…”

“Ahh, that’s not fair,” Gintoki whines, flopping backwards onto the mess of a futon. “Why is it such a big deal?”

“It’s not safe,” Katsura snaps, “and you know that. You wear it too much as it is, I refuse to enable you to hurt yourself even further.”

Gintoki’s face flushes slightly, and his eyes flash briefly with anger. “Well I’m sorry for trying to make myself happy with the shit hand I’ve got. If it’s so abhorrent to you that you just can’t  _bear_ it, if you’re so disgusted by me, then—”

“Don’t put words in my mouth!” He needs something to hold onto so he doesn’t  _hit_ Gintoki, but the only thing nearby is Gintoki himself. “I would never think like that and you  _know_ it, don’t purposely act more ridiculous than you already are.” He balls his hands into fists while Gintoki levers himself up on his elbows, face still red. “I’m worried about your  _health_ , you overgrown infant. The point of those things is to constrict, and that’s what it  _does_ . If you don’t want to take it off, then fine, but we are not going to engage in any other activity as long as it’s on.”

Gintoki says nothing for a long time, long enough that Katsura decides he might as well remove the pressure. He holds back a sigh, because this is  _Gintoki’s_ choice, not his, and as frustrated as he may be, it is not up to him. He does not get to make this decision.

So he silently pulls all his clothes back into place, smooths out the wrinkles and creases, and lies down next to Gintoki, who is very stubbornly not looking at him, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Now he allows himself to sigh, but he keeps it quiet, and presses himself up against Gintoki’s side, lazily draping an arm over his stomach.

There is a stiffness in the other man’s body for a moment, and then finally he relaxes, turning his head just enough to press his face into Katsura’s hair. He doesn’t apologize, and Katsura would scold him if he did.

He loses track of time as they lay there, lulled half to sleep by the warmth of the body next to him, hardly paying attention to anything but the rise and fall of their chests completely out of sync, yet somehow still coordinated. They hear the front door open and there is the sound of Kagura’s feet followed closely by Sadaharu, and Shinpachi yelling something indistinct, but neither bothers to check on Gintoki, which Katsura is more than thankful for. The front door slides shut loudly behind them as they leave, and Katsura lets out a quiet breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Oi,” Gintoki says quietly, and Katsura cranes his neck to look up at him, only to abruptly find his mouth distracted by Gintoki’s. The pressure is light and undemanding, but also warm and decisive. Gintoki shifts so they can get a better angle, and his knee slips between Katsura’s legs, at first just as light as his lips, and then both increase in pressure suddenly and Gintoki rolls them so he’s hovering over Katsura’s body, and his lips ghost over the side of Katsura’s face, to his jaw, just under, down his throat…

“Gin _toki_ ,” Katsura forces out, makes himself say, even though he very much  _does not_ want to. “I told you already—”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Gintoki sits up suddenly, hips hovering just over Katsura’s crotch, which he has a very hard time ignoring, and then wiggles very carefully, a scowl across his face, out of the binder.

He tosses it off to the side and then refuses to look at Katsura except to glance over out of the corner of his eye, and Katsura sighs. “You’re a child. I have seen them before, you haven’t forgotten that since I last mentioned it, have you?”

Gintoki crosses his arms low over his chest. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Katsura says, and means it. Then he grabs Gintoki by the shoulders and rolls them over so he’s on top.

Gintoki grunts but doesn’t otherwise protest, especially since Katsura quickly has their lips pressed together again. His hair falls over his shoulders, and Gintoki is quick to slide his fingers through it, roughly pulling Katsura closer to him. Gintoki’s hip is pressed hard against Katsura’s erection, and he pants against Gintoki’s mouth, lips moving together the same way their hips do. They grind into each other lazy and rough, until Katsura finally breaks away.

“Wha—” Gintoki half asks, cutting himself off when Katsura reaches down to undo his belt and pull his pants and underwear away. He tosses them to the side, and then leans back over Gintoki’s body again to kiss him with all he has. Gintoki moans into the kiss, louder when Katsura slides a hand between them, fingers dipping between Gintoki’s legs and one slowly sliding inside.

“Ahh,  _fuck_ .” Gintoki roughly breaks the kiss and turns his head away, panting hard. His eyes are glazed over, and Katsura watches him carefully, taking in the redness spreading across his cheekbones, the way his back arches when Katsura massages gently on top with his thumb, slides his finger over just the right spot.

Katsura slides a second finger inside and lazily strokes in and out while Gintoki’s hands come up to wrap around his neck. Katsura isn’t sure if it’s Gintoki who pulls him down or if there is some outside force pushing them together for another kiss.

He presses down with his thumb, just the slightest more pressure, and Gintoki  _whimpers_ , hisses against Katsura’s mouth. “Ah, shit.  _Fuck_ , Zura, I’m…  _God_ .”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Katsura murmurs, his lips brushing Gintoki’s as he speaks, but he swirls his thumb, searches with his fingers, and Gintoki whines loudly as he moves, then jerks suddenly, clutches tight to Katsura’s shoulders while he comes. He shakes for a long time, breathing hard afterwards.

Katsura slides his fingers out, and Gintoki sighs quietly, grabs Katsura’s hand before he can reach for something to wipe it on and pulls it up to his mouth. Katsura opens his mouth to tell him he’s obscene and disgusting, but he stops because the sight and feeling of Gintoki wrapping his lips and tongue around the fingers Katsura has soaked with Gintoki’s own body is. Unusually. Well.

Gintoki releases Katsura’s hand after he’s licked it clean and then locks their eyes. “You planning to get on with the main event any time soon?”

He really does try to make it seem like he’s not diving for the condoms they left lying at the side of the futon, but he doesn’t think he’s succeeded judging by the look on Gintoki’s face when he returns. He ignores it, though, in favor of ripping open the packaging and quickly rolling the condom on over himself. Gintoki wraps his legs around Katsura’s waist and pulls him close, close enough that all Katsura has to do is line himself up properly and give the slightest push before he’s in.

“Fuck,” Gintoki breathes, a sentiment which Katsura echoes in the form of a grunt, taking a moment to let Gintoki adjust, all the while reveling in a feeling he’s missed so much. It’s been so long since they had a chance for this, and now it feels brand new and also as familiar as having a sword in his hand.

After a moment, Gintoki’s legs tighten around his waist, and Katsura takes that as his cue to move, sliding in and then pulling back out while Gintoki groans. He keeps the pace slow, and Gintoki matches him move for move, hips sliding up every time Katsura’s slide down. It’s a slow burn, a pressure building in Katsura’s stomach as his movements grow more erratic. He tries to hold himself back, to keep it slow and right – he wants to hold this moment in his mind forever, wants to keep it locked up where only he can see it.

Gintoki is beautiful, sweat across his forehead and chest, a blush that spreads down from his face to the rest of his body, and his eyes are still glazed over. He bites down on his lip in response to a slight change in angle, and Katsura can’t help but reach up to slide their fingers together. He pushes in slow and Gintoki moans and his eyes fall shut.

But they’re not close enough, still, so Katsura pulls out, ignores the confusion on Gintoki’s face as he sits back and pulls his lover into his lap. Gintoki quickly gets the message, positioning his hips just right, and then slowly he sinks down, arms wrapping around Katsura’s neck while his head falls forward. Katsura twists his body, presses his hips, grinds up and in and tries to pull Gintoki even closer. Gintoki is panting hard and pressing back against every movement Katsura makes, and they’re both letting out the softest noises against each other’s skin, and Katsura can  _feel_ it coming, building every moment.

“Fuck, Zura,” Gintoki whispers, and he’s practically shaking in Katsura’s arms.

“I know, I know, me too,” Katsura whispers back, and he slides a hand between them to rub between Gintoki’s legs, and the other whines softly and presses his lips to Katsura’s again. He presses harder, and Gintoki nearly falls, and it’s only Katsura’s arm around his back that keeps him upright.

“Come on, come on,” Gintoki hisses, breath hot against Katsura’s face. They both press hard, bodies snapping together, and Katsura feels hot white light flash in his stomach at the same time that Gintoki moans out loudly and they both freeze in place, shaking hard.

For a few minutes after they just hold each other and try to breathe. Eventually, though, Gintoki lifts himself just enough that Katsura can pull out, and he pulls off the condom and stumbles to his feet, drags himself to the bathroom where he can quickly wash off. When he comes back, Gintoki is lying on his side, struggling to slide under the blankets.

“Shouldn’t you wash up?” Katsura suggests, but he slips under and pulls the blankets over them both anyways.

“Later,” Gintoki grumbles, and pulls him close, pressing his face into Katsura’s chest. “Too tired.”

“Old man,” Katsura chastises him gently. He slides his arms around Gintoki in return and rests his face in his hair.

“Shut up, we’re the same age.”

“As far as you know,” Katsura points out, but Gintoki just groans and tangles their legs together.

Katsura laughs quietly and they lie there for a while, Gintoki shifting every now and then in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. Eventually he stills and his breathing starts to even out, but before he can fully fall asleep, Katsura presses a kiss into his hair and murmurs, “Thank you.”

“F’r what,” Gintoki mumbles.

“Sharing.” Katsura pushes Gintoki’s hair back just a little, runs his thumb over the other man’s temple. “I would never make you if you didn’t want to.”

“Sentimental asshole,” Gintoki shoots back, or tries to, but his voice is sleep slow and lazy. Then, after a moment, “Welcome.”

Katsura smiles and lets him fall asleep, and it takes a long time for him to follow suit, but once he does, he dreams of sweets and summer and the heat at the back of sensei’s classroom and it is the most peaceful sleep he has had in a long time.


End file.
